


you gave up being good when you declared a state of war

by CallicoKitten



Series: put your name and blood on everyone and make the evening news [6]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: Angst, M/M, Moving On, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:05:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9812510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallicoKitten/pseuds/CallicoKitten
Summary: Amanda Waller calls him with the news."There's nothing I can do from my end, Bruce," she says. She sounds tired but they all sound tired these days. Metahumans have been springing up left, right and centre and without Superman as an implicit threat, they're getting braver. "I could fit him with a bomb as part of his release agreements but let's face it, he'd have that thing disarmed within an hour of leaving the courthouse."





	

**Author's Note:**

> lol look whos playing in the trash heap again
> 
> this is definitely the last one until justice league
> 
> if anyones still out there you're gr9 enjoy our boy bruce finally growing up a bit
> 
> title from kill v maim by grimes which im p. sure was written for lex jr

Amanda Waller calls him with the news.

"There's nothing I can do from my end, Bruce," she says. She sounds tired but they all sound tired these days. Metahumans have been springing up left, right and centre and without Superman as an implicit threat, they're getting braver. "I could fit him with a bomb as part of his release agreements but let's face it, he'd have that thing disarmed within an hour of leaving the courthouse."

Bruce sighs, "There's no one you can strong arm into putting him in your custody? You owe me, remember?"

"No and even there was I wouldn't want to. There's a reason I never considered Mr Luthor for the Task Force."

"You wouldn't have to _use_ him," Bruce tries. "Just keep an eye on him."

"I'm sorry, Bruce, but times have changed. The public don’t know what happened in that Kryptonian ship, no one does and before he died a hero, Superman wasn’t exactly popular. Plus there was that mess with Crane. The tides have changed, Bruce," Amanda says. "The fact is, Lex Luthor is most likely going to be released. Now, I can do what I can to draw the trial out but there's very little chance he'll be sent to Blackgate or back to Arkham but aside from that..."

Bruce kicks over a table when Amanda hangs up. A mug goes flying, shatters against the opposite wall. Alfred, summoned by the loud crash sighs very loudly and pointedly.

"It must be nice, Master Wayne, to be able to break things with the knowledge that there will always be someone around to clean up," he says.

Bruce huffs. "I'm sorry, Alfred. I just... Amanda called. Lex is getting retried and word on her end of things is that he's getting out."

Alfred nods slowly. He’s careful about Lex, about mentioning Lex. Like he thinks Bruce will explode if he’s too critical and it’s frustrating because _whatever_ Bruce felt for Lex Luthor it is very separate from the man - the monster - Lex revealed himself to be. “Right,” he says. “And we’re certain he’s getting out?”

Bruce spreads his hands, “His new psychiatrist is championing his cause, apparently.”

Alfred makes a face and it’s probably more gruff and understanding than out and out sympathetic but then again, Alfred probably didn’t bank on Bruce growing up and developing an unhealthy obsession with Lex Luthor.  Or dressing up as a bat and fighting crime. “We always knew this was a possibility,” he says briskly. _Keep calm and carry on, Master Bruce._ “Do we know whether the trial will be public?”

Bruce shrugs.

“Well, if it is, at least he won’t be able to slip away unnoticed. There are people out there who know the truth, Bruce. If he’s going to get out, we can at least hope he’ll be kept on a tighter leash.”

\---

They’ve allowed Lex to wear a suit to his trial dates, not the Arkham jumpsuit Bruce last saw him in and Lex has always favoured jackets a few sizes too big for him but somehow, these look different. They don’t make him look bulkier or eccentric or whatever it was Lex was actually going for before all this, they make him look small. He’s always been scrawny but he’s never looked _small._ Lex has always drawn the eye, like a car wreck, he’s always all singing, all dancing, but they lead him out - guards either side, cuffed at the wrists and the ankles, he looks like small. Diminutive.

The first time around, he didn’t even go to trial. He had a high powered team of lawyers declare him unfit before he’d even reached the station. The details were vague; over-work, a misguided attempt to safeguard the world from extraterrestrial threats. There was nothing about illegal arms deals and human trafficking and kidnapping Martha Kent and Lois Lane. Lex would have been sent to some cushy rest home upstate if Bruce hadn’t pulled some strings and got him carted off to Arkham.

It’s been almost a year, things are starting to change.

Amanda’s right. No one really knows what happened in the Kryptonian ship. All they know is that Lex and Superman went in and a monster came out and in the grand scheme of things, to the world at least, Lex might be a national embarrassment but he’s done a lot of good. He rebuilt Metropolis, put money into Gotham here and there, worked on free wifi for the city, made strides towards free energy. Lois Lane has been writing exposes on LexCorp’s shady dealings but no one’s listening. Not really.

Bruce watches the first day of the trial from the Batcave. Lex’s hair has grown out since they shaved it all off. He looks softer, younger, less like his father. He sits between his lawyer and his psychiatrist and the Gotham courthouse (because the Metropolis one hasn’t been rebuilt fully yet) is packed.

This is something of a double-edged sword for Lex, Bruce thinks. This is a public trial; he’ll be baring his wounds for half the world. He’ll figure out how to spin it in his favour though, Lex always does.

It's nothing spectacular; mostly it's a blow-by-blow account of the events of the Kryptonian Ship, of Superman's death.

Lois Lane is covering it for the Planet and he reads her blow by blow over breakfast the next morning. It's impressively unbiased; Bruce thinks for a moment that if he were in her position, he'd have a hard time. _Given your reaction to Master Todd's death, Mr Wayne,_ Alfred's voice says in his head. _I'd say so._

He hasn't seen Lois since Clark's funeral, he's thought about reaching out but every time he does he thinks about the night in Gotham, Clark limp and pliant underneath him, spear raised. He closes his eyes.

How had he fallen so fast?

Alfred hasn't once said _I told you so_ but Bruce rather wishes he had.

He stands up, drains his coffee, leaving his breakfast half eaten. Alfred doesn't look up from his side of the table, only arches a brow over the top of his newspaper, "Going somewhere, Master Bruce?" He says, in the same tone of voice he used when Bruce was eight years old and leaving the dinner table early.

"I thought I'd exercise my right as a grown man to leave my house, Alfred. Would that be alright with you?"

Alfred glances up at him, "I don't know, Master Bruce, I think if nothing else, the last few months have proved that you often don't make the wisest of decisions when your butler isn't around to hold your hand."

Alright. Maybe Alfred has been saying _I told you so_ all along without as many words.

Bruce sighs, "I'm trying to clean up my messes, Alfred. I thought you'd approve."

"I _do,_ " Alfred says. "Uniting the world's meta-humans as a force against evil is the right move, Bruce. I would just feel a lot better about the whole thing if you dropped this obsession with Mr Luthor."

"I'm not _obsessed,_ Alfred, I'm - "

"You feel guilty," Alfred says, folding his newspaper neatly away. "I know, Bruce. But you shouldn't. Alexander Luthor made his choices just as you made yours. You were no more in control of him than I am of you." And he sounds regretful in that last part, raw and wounded and Bruce knows that he's thinking about the chain of events that could have led to Bruce being in Lex's position.

Bruce thinks about that too. The world where Lois didn't arrive in time, where Bruce brought that spear down and split Clark's chest. The bit where Batman, not Lex Luthor, killed Superman.

Lex would have loved that he thinks, his blood soaked bat, finally stooping to his level.

"I could have stopped him, Alfred," Bruce says. "I could have stopped all of this."

Alfred sighs. He looks tired in that moment, worn.

Bruce turns and leaves.

-

He sits near the back of the court. He's dressed down, picked a heavy coat with a high collar to hide himself but it doesn't look like he'll need it. No one looks his way. This is the trial of the century, after all. Lex Luthor: the man who killed Superman, who led to his death at least, about to be released. Looking around at all the people, all the cameras, the reporters, Bruce relaxes a fraction.

Lex won't want this. He won't want all these people thinking him weak and there's no way whatever his psychiatrists have to say will sway them all. There's no way.

Lois Lane is a few rows in front of him with a group of reporters; she glances around once or twice before the trial resumes, gaze sliding over Bruce, scanning the crowd. She turns her head back to the front as the proceedings begin without so much as a flicker of recognition and Bruce breathes out a sigh.

Lex is lead in, head slightly bowed. He drags his feet, like he's exhausted, like he doesn't want to be here, like he wants to go back to his padded cell at Arkham. Bruce wonders how much of it is an act, whether Lex even knows himself.

His lawyer stands up, makes an impassioned statement about the nature of guilt, of culpability, points out that before his death, Superman was hardly revered by all. There's never been an official verdict on whether Lex was behind the series of events leading up to the explosion in the capitol. Lois Lane of course wrote an expose on the whole thing, won a Pulitzer prize for it even after LexCorp sued for defamation.

"But more than that," Lex's lawyer is saying. "My client was, in his own mind at least, acting _rationally,_ doing what he felt was _right_ and, may I remind you, at the time, took actions that many of us supported. Superman was - or at least had the capability of - being _dangerous_ and, since the kyrptonite Mr Luthor had been _given permission_ to import and study as a worst case scenario deterrent was stolen, he was forced to act accordingly. But before we get to that, before we get to any of this, you have to understand where my client was coming from, what exactly it was that made him the man he is today." He gesticulates, he paces, everything he says, he says theatrically. He reminds Bruce of Harvey Dent before madness burnt him in two.

"Because then and only then, can you pass judgement on him. Only when you _understand_ the thought processes of the action, can you begin to discuss whether what he did was right or wrong and the best person to do that, the best person to explain my client to you, is his psychiatrist, Dr Joan Leland."

Leland was not someone Bruce had been banking on. He'd picked Arkham for Lex because most of the staff were on his payroll and if Bruce Wayne said, _this one never sees the light of day again,_ they wouldn't disobey. Leland though, is stubbornly committed to her cause. He can't fault her for that, he supposes, the old Bruce would have, the new Bruce finds it annoying but admirable. It's just as shame she didn't pick a more worthy cause than Lex Luthor.

She swears in and takes the stand with her head held high.

"Dr Leland," Lex's lawyer begins. "Would you state for the course your full name and title."

"My name is Doctor Joan Leland and I'm one of the head doctors at Arkham Home for the Criminally Insane."

"And could you tell us please how long you have been practising in the field of mental health?"

"Since I qualified at twenty-five, almost twenty years ago."

He goes on, hammering Leland's capability home, going over previous success stories, professional qualifications, published papers, practises, theories. Most of it goes over the crowds heads, Bruce guesses but it doesn't matter, it's probably supposed to. All the lawyer wants is to dazzle them with her achievements, to make them accept that she's far more knowledgeable than any of them.

Then, he moves on to the main event.

"And how long have you been working with Mr Luthor?"

"Six months," Leland answers without missing a beat. "Though I was aware of him and had met with him previously during his incarceration."

"He was under the care of another doctor at the time?"

"Yes."

"A Doctor Robert Crane?"

There's a flurry of gasps through the crowd and Bruce sets his jaw. Robert Crane's arrest and trial for his crimes under the guise of Scarecrow had all played out in the public and the press had made no secret of the fact he used patients at Arkham as guinea-pigs for his formulas. Arkham had managed to keep the identity of those patients a secret thus far but even if the opposition raised an objection, the damage was done.

"That is correct," Leland says, with a heavy sigh.

It's probably genuine, her dismay at Crane's actions, but the sigh is so perfectly dramatically placed that Bruce finds himself wondering whether he's walked in to a court room drama.

"Objection," says the opposition.  "Irrelevant. Dr Leland is here to inform us of Mr Luthor's state of mind at the time of his crimes, not his current wellbeing."

"Sustained," The judge says, after a moment's consideration.

"Very well," Lex's lawyer says. "Let's begin. Dr Leland, could you please tell me what your initial assessment of Mr Luthor's mental state was, that first time you met him?"

-

By the time the court adjourns for lunch, Bruce's head is spinning. Dr Leland had relayed a blow by blow account of her initial assessment, led on by Lex's lawyer, building to her diagnosis:

"Well, as you might imagine with a case as complex as Mr Luthor's, I believe he suffers from various co-morbid disorders. The most obvious of which may be the most controversial as it is a diagnosis many would confine to childhood."

"And could you list those disorders for the court?"

"Very well. To begin with, I think there is fairly obvious post-traumatic-stress disorder, a combination of one or more cluster b personality disorders, underlying adhd and, as I've said the most controversial of my diagnoses, reactive attachment disorder."

"And could you explain that last part?"

"Essentially, an attachment disorder is something that occurs when a child experiences a failure to bond with their parents early on in their lives. The lack of this bond has a lasting effect on the child if untreated and hinders their ability to empathise with others and form lasting relationships as an adult. It can occur in a number of ways from prolonged illness to unwell parents to abuse and neglect."

"And of those potential causes listed, which do you believe fits Mr Luthor's case?"

"Abuse."

"And you have evidence of this?"

"Oh, yes. Extensive evidence."

The lawyer had nodded, had turned to the judge. "Your honour, I would like to ask that we adjourn for lunch, this next part of Dr Leland's testimony is disturbing, I would ask that the people be given time to consider whether they wish to be present for it."

The Judge had agreed.

Bruce watches Lex being led away, watches people stream out of the courthouse into the streets. None of them are going to actually consider leaving, Lex's lawyer has done his job, stirred up enough intrigue that if anything, more people will be packing in to the court than before.

Bruce stays put. He's gotten away with it so far, he doesn't want to push his luck. He looks up when someone sits down beside him, closes his eyes briefly when he sees that it's Lois.

"You might want to look into doing more to disguise your identity," she says, unwrapping a sandwich. "That jaw-line is a dead giveaway."

Bruce doesn't rise to the bait. "Anyone pick up on it?"

Lois doesn't answer. Instead, she fixes him with something that's not quite a glare and says, "What are you doing here, Bruce?"

Lois doesn't like him, Bruce doesn't blame her. After the funeral, he had tried to reach out, tried to tell her he was going to do better, was going to be more like Clark, the words had probably sounded hollow to her. She'd taken over Clark's Gotham Bat expose, taken it back to the days when Bruce messed up and broke bones once a month and ended with the Bat's brawl with Superman before Lex's monster showed up.

 _It remains to be seen precisely what intervened in their skirmish,_ she had written. _Whether they would have continued on in their rivalry until one of them lay dead if Lex Luthor Jr's schemes hadn't interfered. The Bat's history, however, has shown he is not one for peaceful amends-making. Is this the kind of man we want protecting us? Is this the kind of man we can ever really trust?_

There are a lot of things Bruce would like to say to Lois. He wants to say he's sorry, wants to explain about Jason's death and Lex's manipulation and everything really. About his parents, about putting on the cowl. But she'll never see him as anything more or anything less than the man who tried to kill her boyfriend with a spear.

"I like to stay informed of current events," he says, in his best Bruce Wayne voice.

Lois shakes her head. She doesn't speak again until the court is starting to fill back up and Lex is led out. She watches Bruce watching him and asks, "How well did you know him before?"

"Not well," he lies.

-

The thing is, Bruce has always known about Lex's father. It was common knowledge after all, that Lex Sr. was not a nice man.

Everyone had seen the bruises on Lex Jr's wrists when his sleeves would ride up at meetings or parties or social events, everyone had heard the way Lex Sr. would talk to his son. Everyone had whispered when Lex's mother had vanished. She had taken off with a younger man, the official version of events said but no one really believed it. Lillian Luthor was too soft-spoken to do something so bold.

And there had been scars. Not many. None visible. But scars, nonetheless.

A raised welt, a cigar burn, Lex's very public instability.

Bruce had known because Lex was very bad at keeping quiet about things, because things spilled out of him like he was cracked all over and broken and Bruce was the only one who was really paying attention but he hadn't known like _this._

Dr Leland has x-rays and medical reports from various doctors paid to keep their silence, from plastic surgeons who whisked scars away and former maids of Lex Sr.

The court is mostly silent this time but for a few smothered gasps. Lois beside him sits rigidly, raptly. When court is adjourned for the day she doesn't move. Bruce sits with her while the court clears out.

"He's going to get out," she says, when it's emptier.

"You don't know that," Bruce says, automatically.

"If it was up to a judge he wouldn't but it's not. It's a jury. He's going to get out."

-

Bruce calls Amanda on his way home. "I need to see him," he growls when he finally gets through.

Amanda waits a beat before replying. "He's not in my custody, Mr Wayne."

"Make it happen," he snarls and hangs up.

-

"I trust you had an _enlightening_ day, Master Wayne," Alfred says curtly when Bruce gets in.

Bruce sets his jaw, "No one is making you stay here, Alfred."

"No one but my unshaken devotion to the boy I raised since he was twelve years old," Alfred mutters. He follows Bruce through to the kitchen. "The news is saying he'll be released."

"Yeah," Bruce agrees, bleakly.

"Well, Ms Waller said as much. I suppose all that's left to do is prepare for the eventuality that he goes off the deep end again, as it were."

Bruce hums noncommittally.

"You are okay, aren't you, Bruce?" Alfred asks, carefully.

"I'm fine, Alfred."

Alfred snorts, "Is this the _fine_ that started dressing up as a bat and hitting things or the fine that started branding criminals?"

"This is the _fine_ that is not having this conversation, Alfred," Bruce snaps, he starts towards the library, towards the entrance to the bat cave.

"You can't ignore this, Bruce," Alfred calls after him. "Whatever this is with Mr Luthor is not healthy!"

-

Amanda calls him early the next morning.

"I can get you five minutes," she says. "Are you going as Bruce or shall I tell them to expect a cape?"

"Does it matter?" Bruce shoots back.

"Not to me," Amanda says and hangs up.

Alfred glares at him over the rim of his mug.

"I'll be back later," Bruce says as he stands.

Alfred sets down his mug very pointedly but is silent as Bruce leaves.

-

In the end, he goes as the Bat. It's not that he doesn't trust Amanda to keep her people quiet; it's that he'd rather she didn't do anything horrific to keep them from blabbing that Bruce Wayne visited Lex Luthor during his trial. It doesn't matter anyway; he's fairly sure Lex has figured it out by now.

Lex stands tall in the darkened cell Amanda's had him hauled off too, worlds away from the meek, frightened boy he's playing for the court. "Ah," he says when Bruce steps into the room. "The Gotham Bat! I was wondering when you'd make your entrance; you do have such a flair for the dramatic. Come to slam my head into another wall? It might play well for cameras, a few bruises here and there."

"What's your game, Luthor?" Bruce snarls.

Lex laughs. "Oh, no, no, no, no, don't tell me you haven't been paying attention! This hasn't been _my_ game for a very long time." There's something in his gaze, something looser, more unsettled.

Bruce grips him tightly by the shoulders, "What the hell are you talking about?" he growls.

"I told you last time," Lex says, smiling evenly. "The bells been rung, Batman, they're on their way and you better get out of it or _ding dong, the bat is dead_ \- "

Bruce shuts him by slamming him hard against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. He's lighter than he'd been before, Lex has always been scrawny but there'd been a sturdiness to him before. Now he's loose-limbed, a ragdoll, uncoordinated and clumsy in Bruce's grip. Bruce snarls.

He wants to smack him against the wall until he's a limp, bloody mess.

(He wants to fuck him into the wall until he's a limp, mewling mess.)

He lets Lex go, lets him slide down onto unsteady feet and something like disappointment flickers across Lex's gaze.

"I'll be watching you," Bruce warns. "Give me a reason and I'll throw you in the deepest darkest hole I can find."

He sweeps out.

Behind him, Lex laughs, high and grating, "It's won't be _you_ finding _me_ , Batman, I promise! They're coming! They're coming and I'll make sure you're first on their list!"

-

"And in a shocking turn of events today Alexander Luthor Jr's retrial came to an end today with the jury deciding to allow Luthor to leave Arkham Asylum where had been sent for his role in the incident which claimed Superman's life, a year and a half ago."

Bruce shuts off the sound and watches the footage of the verdict being read out, half listening to Barry Allen, who could really do with some friends his own age, talk Alfred's ear off. "So theoretically," he's saying, animatedly. "If I run fast enough I'd be able to run _through time_! Imagine that! Imagine the things we could accomplish!"

Alfred is watching with the same expression he uses when Bruce comes up with a new bat-gadget to try out: faintly alarmed and very, very disapproving. "That sounds rather dangerous, Mr Allen."

On the screen they're showing Lex's reaction to the verdict. He does a good job of looking surprised, his mouth goes all slack and he tears up. It can't be genuine, by this point he's probably paid off everyone on the jury.

"Well, _yeah_ ," Barry says, undeterred. "But think about the possibilities! I could go back and stop Superman from dying, or save my mom!"

When Bruce was a kid, he used to dream about saving his parents a lot, used to imagine exactly how his life would have panned out but now he can't help it, he's thinking about what it would have been like if he'd done more about Lex. If he'd called CPS on Lex Sr., if he'd given in earlier. Lex would have figured out the Batman thing earlier, maybe he'd have helped out, put some of genius into helping Bruce save people. Maybe under Bruce's influence, he could have done some real good, made a difference.

Alfred would never have approved.

Maybe it would have been a disaster; maybe Lex would have self-destructed anyway and taken Bruce with him. Maybe he would have killed Superman with his own two hands.

Barry probably wouldn't appreciate being asked to go back in time and convince Bruce's younger self to date Lex Luthor though.

Bruce shuts off the news feed and stands up. "No one is travelling back in time to save anyone," he says and Barry's face falls. "It's too dangerous. What's already happened has already happened and we can't change it."

Alfred looks relieved.

-

After Barry's gone, Bruce thinks about calling Lois, she could probably do with a friend right now. He doesn't though. Instead, he digs out a bottle of merlot his father bought the day before he died and drinks.

Lex will be out by now. His ridiculous mansion in Metropolis has been sold off, the proceeds going to the victims of his monster's rampage and the citizens of Metropolis, robbed of their hero. He probably has an extensive network of homes, Bruce certainly does but there's still this tiny part of him that thinks Lex might turn up here.

"It's alright Bruce," Alfred says, gently at some point. "I know I may not have approved of your - " he breaks off, searches for the word and settles for " _Bond_ with Mr Luthor but I recognise that it may have meant far more to you than I appreciated." He says this all awkwardly, gaze mostly on the floor. "More than _you_ appreciated, perhaps."

"He's a monster, Alfred," Bruce says, automatically. "He always was. It doesn't matter how I felt about him. It's in the past."

Alfred gives him a long, considering look. "Well," he says, eventually. "That is a very mature way of thinking about it."

Bruce sets down his wine glass. "I'm forty-four, Alfred. I think I'm entitled to maturity now and then."

The corners of Alfred's mouth tug upwards; it's as much of a smile as Bruce ever gets out of the man. "Quite so, Master Wayne. Might I suggest you begin adopting maturity more often? You are, as you say, forty-four, after all."

"We'll see, Alfred," Bruce says, smiling faintly.

-

The first time he sees Lex after Arkham, after the trial, is at a small get together at LexCorp. He's not been invited, not technically, but Lex has been showing up uninvited to Bruce's parties for years now so Bruce figures he's entitled to some revenge.

Alfred had watched tight-mouthed as Bruce got ready and left, glad Bruce wasn't going out to fight people, annoyed Bruce was going out to antagonise a super-villain.

Bruce shows up in his most expensive suit, smiles charmingly for the cameras, makes Lex come to him.

"You know, it's funny," Lex says, when he finally minces his way over to Bruce. "I don't recall putting Bruce Wayne down on the invite list."

"Oh, you didn't," Bruce assures. "I'm sure it just slipped your mind, I wanted to spare you the embarrassment of having to explain you forgot to invite _Bruce Wayne_ to your party."

Lex smiles coolly, it doesn't meet his eyes. There are still dark circles there; he's still a few shades too pale, a little shaky on his feet. He looks spread thin these days, the cracks more obvious, more fragile. "How kind of you."

Bruce smiles back, "No problem. You've had quite the year. Arkham can't have been too healthy for you."

Something flickers in Lex's gaze. "Well, when you're right, you're right," he says. "I'm still finding my feet, as it were. Getting back to the old bump and grind!" He laughs, humourlessly. Bruce chuckles politely.

 _This is the last time;_ he thinks later, as he presses Lex up against the wall and kisses him. Kissing Lex has always been more like a battle, electric, angry, full of teeth and stifled groans but this time Lex is slow, like he can't quite remember what he's doing.

Bruce pulls away, frowns. Lex's gaze is wide and raw and open.

" _What_?" Lex snaps, after a moment, anger hot in his cheeks.

 "I don't want this," Bruce decides, stepping back. "I don't want you."

Lex blinks. There's confusion first, then disbelief, anger, hurt, annoyance. He settles as always for a sneer, cheeks flushed red. "What? I'm not good enough for you now? I'm not good enough for _Bruce Wayne_?"

Bruce shakes his head, turns to leave.

Behind him, Lex splutters. "You're just _leaving_? Fine. _Fine._ But remember, I _know_ you Bruce Wayne. We're more alike than you think. I'm not the only one with secrets!"

"No," Bruce agrees, turning back to face him. "No, you're not."

Lex looks triumphant.

"But difference is Lex, I'm trying to do better. I'm trying to _be_ better."

Lex scowls.

Bruce smiles, cordially. "So, thank you for a lovely evening and good night."

This time when he leaves, he doesn't look back.


End file.
